The Longing
by elvin-warrior-princess
Summary: (Rating for self-mutilation) This is the updated and improved version of one of my previous stories. R&R please!
1. Back at the Dursley's

**_The Longing_**

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**_Disclaimer: _**Anything you recognize as J.K. Rowlings' is hers. I am merely borrowing her characters

**_Summary: _**It's the summer after OOTP, and Harry is feeling terrible. (WARNING: If deep depression and self-mutilation bother you, then I suggest you not to read this.)

**Chapter 1: Back at the Dursley's**

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          Harry was lying on his bed thinking for the thousandth time about the night in the Ministry of Mysteries. The scene seemed to be playing over and over in his mind in slow motion, like a broken record. All he could see when he closed his eyes, or when he wasn't doing anything, is Sirius suddenly falling through the veil, and then Remus trying to stop him from going to the veil and trying to save his godfather. It was an ever-repeating nightmare, and it was all Harry could think about.

            "BOY! GET DOWN HERE BEFORE I COME UP THERE AND DRAG YOU OUT OF THAT BED!" came Harry's Uncle Vernon's booming voice from downstairs.

            Harry got up off his bed and sluggishly walked down the stairs. He walked into the kitchen where his aunt, uncle, and cousin were sitting at the table. They all looked up when he came in.

            "Sit down and eat something," growled his uncle.

            "I'm not hungry," said Harry, remaining where he was.

            "You'll bloody eat something or I'll force it down you."

            "No you won't. You're too worried that 'my kind' will hex you from here to America. Well, I'm sorry, but I'm not eating anything. But I would _love_ to see you try."

            Uncle Vernon just glared at Harry. Seeing that as a sign that he could go, he turned on his heel and went back to his room. He paced through his room. He had to get out. He had to do something. He grabbed the CD player and a few CDs he had stolen from Dudley, put them in his overlarge pocket and set out downstairs.

            He walked out the front door and slammed it behind him. He didn't care if anyone came after him. He figured they wouldn't. Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out the headphones. He put them on and turned up the music as loud as he could handle. He then reached into another pocket and pulled out some cigarettes which he had also stolen from his cousin. He lit the fag and deeply inhaled. He let it out slowly.

            He walked to little park a few streets from his aunt and uncle's house. He sat on the only swing that his cousin and his friends hadn't broken. He continued to smoke, and he wondered if any of the Order was watching him. Then, he realized that he didn't really care.

            Nothing meant anything to him anymore. He reached into his pocket again and pulled out a small pocket knife. He opened the blade and gently ran it along his finger. It was sharp, and he knew it. He had carried it around with him the entire week he had been back so far. He hadn't yet used it, he'd been too scared. But now he really felt like using it. He had to feel something other than the emotional pain he felt now.

            It was _his_ fault after all, that Sirius was gone. He was the one who hadn't mastered Occlumency. He was the one who had taken Voldemort's vision seriously. He deserved to be punished. He deserved more than just the emotional torment he was going through. He had to hurt physically too, because all the dirt he felt inside him would go away.

            He took the blade, and put it in the middle of his forearm. He pushed the blade gently down, and sliced it across his arm. The pain was almost unbearable at first, but it didn't last long. He made two more cuts beside the one he had just made. After wincing each time, he looked down and watched as the blood flowed from his arm. He felt a little better. He hadn't cut deep enough to kill himself, nor would he.

            All Harry wanted was just a little relief. He wouldn't kill himself. He was going to kill someone else. That someone was Voldemort. He deserved to die. Harry had been through so much because him. He had lost his parents, his godfather, and had been forced to live in Hell on Earth with his aunt, uncle, and prat of a cousin all because of that stupid evil jerk who had decided he wanted to rule it all. Well, he would pay. He would pay for everything he had done.

            Harry continued to watch some of his blood fall to the ground. He then took a torn piece of cloth and wrapped it around his self-inflicted wounds. He continued to sit on that swing and listen to the angry rap music that came from his headphones.

            He didn't know how long he had sat there, but his bum was beginning to get numb, and more broken records of that night were starting to play in his mind. So, he got up and started to walk slowly back to his place of residence.

            As Number 4 Pivet Drive came into view, he stuffed the headphones back in his pocket, and doused the new fag he had been smoking. He then walked into the house, and straight up to his bedroom. He looked at his clock and saw that he had been gone nearly 5 hours. But he didn't care.

            He hid all the stuff under the loose floorboard, and went to take a shower. He walked into the bathroom, undressed, and stood under the hot gush of water. The water stung his cuts, as he had taken off the "bandage" and thrown it away. The pain felt relieving, however.

            He stayed in the shower until he heard loud pounding on the door. He got out, redressed, and left the bathroom to find his aunt Petunia glowering at him. He looked at her unwaveringly.

            "Boy, you need to be a little more gracious. You have not eaten, you go out without warning, and you abuse the hot water source like it is everlasting. Now, I want this ridiculous behavior to cease immediately. Dinner is almost ready, and I expect you to eat something. I will not be ignored. Do you understand me? And if you refuse to eat, I will see to it that you are force-fed. Understood?"

            "Fine. Whatever. But I'm not hungry, so don't expect me to eat much."

            Without another word, they both went downstairs. Harry sat at the table, and glared at the floor. He wasn't a little kid. He didn't like being treated like one. He ate a small portion of the already small meal of meat loaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans. When he was done, he went to his room.

            He saw that a large barn owl was sitting on his bed. He took the letter from it, and stroked the bird graciously. It gently nibbled his finger, and then took off through the open window. He gave Hedwig two owl treats because he had missed her when she had been gone, and opened his letter.

                        _Dear Harry,_

_            I hope you are well. I have thought about you a great deal this past week. I know that Sirius' death must be very hard on you. It is very hard on me as well. I want you to know that I am here for you if you need to talk about anything. _

_            Harry, please realize that I am no longer your professor, and that I want you to be able to come to me with your problems, and to stop calling me Professor. You need to feel free to call me Remus, or even Moony. _

_            Please, tell me how you are doing, and how the muggles are treating you. Don't let them get you down._

_                                                                                    Your Friend,_

_                                                                                                Remus_

            Harry closed the letter and pulled out a piece of parchment and ink. He looked at Hedwig and asked, "You up to delivering a letter?" She hooted her response.

            He looked at the piece of parchment blankly. What could he tell Remus? He couldn't tell him the truth, but he couldn't completely lie to him. He thought and then wrote:

                        _Dear Remus,_

_            My summer is going okay, I guess. The muggles are being okay. The feed me and then ignore me, so it's all okay. Listen, I know you mean well and everything, but I really don't feel like talking about that night just yet. Thanks for your concern._

_                                                                                    Thanks again,_

_                                                                                                            Harry_

He reread the letter, and then tied it to Hedwig's leg.  He watched her fly out the window, and then he went to his bed. He sat down and sighed. He really hated lying to the only person left who knew his parents, but he couldn't tell him anything that he had really been doing. He knew then that the Order would swoop down on him and treat him like a little child.

He lied down on his bed and looked at the ceiling. He never knew when he fell asleep, but he finally did. And it was the same type of sleep he had had to endure every night since that night in the Ministry of Mysteries: restless and full of memories.


	2. The Continuing Numbness

**_The Longing_**

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**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing you recognize as JKR's.

**_Opening Comments: _**Well, here it is, Chapter 2! Thanks everyone for your reviews!

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**Chapter 2: The Continuing Numbness**

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          Harry woke up the next morning feeling as terrible as he ever did. He didn't even bother to get up. He just continued to lay there. He stared up at the ceiling. He didn't even look up when his aunt walked in and informed him that he would be de-weeding the garden, and cleaning the gutters. He merely grunted his response and continued staring at the ceiling.

            He finally got up when the broken record started up again. He put on another set of overly large clothes, put the CD player in his pocket, and went outside to do his chores.

            It was excruciatingly hot in the sun, but Harry didn't care. He listened to the music, this time angry alternative, and did his chores without complaint.

            Usually, Harry hated doing chores, but now, when he was working, he could forget about how he had gotten the closest thing he had ever had to a father killed. He didn't think about how he had put all of his friends in danger, and he didn't think about how he had lost a huge part of himself that night when Sirius fell behind the veil.

            He didn't stop for a lunch break when he finished with the lawn. He merely asked for a drink of water, and set back outside to work on the gutters. He took extra long working on them because he didn't want to go back inside and face the memories that came with the moments when he had nothing to do.

            Harry wiped his brow, and stopped a moment to change CDs. As he was doing this, he heard a pop somewhere in the distance. He figured someone from the Order had just switched shifts. He merely shrugged and went back to cleaning the gutters.

            When he finally finished, it was dinnertime, and once again, his aunt insisted that he eat something. So, he hurriedly ate something, and then went up to take a shower. (This was partially insisted upon by his relatives, as he had been out in the hot sun all day.)

            Before he got in the shower, Harry looked at the cuts he had made the day before. He remembered how clean he had felt after he had made them. He pulled the knife out of his pants pocket, and made three more cuts, this time on his other arm. Being careful not to drip blood on the floor, he quickly got in the shower.

            Once again, the water made his cuts burn, but Harry didn't care. He hurriedly took a shower, and then covered his new cuts with a gauze bandage. He went into his room, and did his most commonly used pastime: stare at the ceiling.

            Harry shifted out of all thought for the first time in quite a long time. All he thought about was counting the dots on his ceiling. He didn't think about anything else. He couldn't hear anything else. He didn't feel hardly anything at all.

            Harry had never known numbness like this. He liked it. He didn't think about Sirius' death. He didn't think about Hogwarts, or his friends, or the Order of the Phoenix. In his new state of mind, none of that existed. All that existed was counting all the dots on the ceiling. That was all that mattered.

            One morning, or night, he wasn't quite sure, Harry heard voices. He recognized them, but couldn't remember from where. Harry couldn't remember much of anything, except his short trips to the bathroom every now and then. (The only thing he could really feel during his solace was those moments when he would need to relieve himself.)

            When Harry heard those voices, he noticed they were close, yet far away. He didn't really care. All he really cared about were all the little dots on his ceiling. He only caught glimpses of what they were saying:

            "…I don't ruddy know what is wrong with him.'

            "…Should we do something?"

            "…Look at all the ruddy owls!"

            That was all he ever really noticed. Of course, he didn't really care. Harry never knew how much time went by. He did notice that on his trips to the bathroom, he would see more and more cuts on his arms. He also saw his reflection from time to time. He was very pale, and deathly skinny, but he didn't care.

            All that mattered to Harry James Potter was counting all the little dots on the ceiling. It mattered more than anything in the entire world. He couldn't feel, he couldn't think, and he couldn't really hear. He was oblivious to everything but the dots.

            One day, though, during one of his longer periods of dot-counting, Harry vaguely felt someone gently slapping his face and shaking him. He thought he heard a familiar, yet unfamiliar, voice calling his name. But he couldn't stop now. He had a lot more dots to count. But the shaking persisted, and his concentration started to break. He could clearly hear someone calling his name.

            "HARRY! HARRY! COME ON!"

            "What do you think is wrong with him?"

            "I DON'T CARE ABOUT THAT RIGHT NOW! I JUST WANT HIM TO BLOODY LOOK AT ME! HARRY!"

            Pulling slowly out of his stupor, Harry looked into the eyes of an extremely worried person. He knew this person. Then it dawned on him.

            "Remus?" he asked.

            "Thank Merlin. What happened, Harry?"

            "What do you mean?"

            "What? Do you know what I am talking about?"

            "No. Not really. Wait…" Then it dawned on him. He had been counting ceiling dots, and cutting himself, and starving himself. He glanced at his arms and saw that they were, thankfully, covered by his sleeves. He let out an audible sigh of relief.

            "Harry, what's going on? And don't you dare lie to me! You haven't been answering our letters! The members of the Order say they haven't seen you outside in over a week! Everyone thought you were dead, and Moody about came here to hex your aunt and uncle to pieces."

            "What do you want me to say? I don't know what happened. All I know is that one day I came in here after taking a shower, and I just stared up at the ceiling trying to forget everything. It was weird. I started counting the ceiling dots, and I felt this immense weight lift. I didn't think of anything but those dots. I was numb to everything. It was…it was a…relief."

            "Harry, everyone has been worried sick about you. Your friends have nearly gone mad with worry. I could hardly keep my own head thinking that you were dead. I couldn't bear to lose you too, you know."

            "I'm sorry, Remus. But, I felt so wonderful. Well, I guess I didn't feel wonderful, but that's just the thing! I didn't feel _anything_. I felt free of everything."

            Harry looked up at the man who was one of his parents' best friends, and the only true marauder left. The young werewolf was sad, and it was painfully evident in his eyes. Harry hated him hurting. He hated everything hurting. He hated it all. He had to do something. He had to cut. It was the only other way to get rid of the filth that he was feeling. He walked out of the room without an explanation and went into the bathroom.

            His arms were already covered with many cuts, and Harry didn't remember making them, but he didn't really care. All that mattered to him now was making more. He had made two more cuts before Remus burst in and took the knife from him.

            "HARRY WHAT ON EARTH DO YOU BLOODY THINK YOU ARE DOING?" Remus shouted this, not out of fury, but out of concern.

            Harry merely looked up from the blood and simply said, "I'm getting rid of the filth."

            Remus bent down so that he could look up in the young boy's eyes.  Harry blankly looked back. He didn't really know what was going on with him. All he knew is that his life sucked. Suddenly, he wanted it to end. He wanted to be with his family. He didn't care what Voldemort did with the world because he, Harry, wouldn't be there to have to deal with it. Harry stood up to leave.

            Remus, his reflexes much faster, grabbed Harry and held onto him. He wouldn't let go, no matter how much Harry struggled. It wasn't much of a struggle, though because Harry's body was weak and tired. In fact, Harry was so weak that he merely collapsed. He went into a darkness that was welcome and frightening at the same time.

            When Harry woke, he saw that Remus wasn't the only person in the room. Mad-Eye Moody, Severus Snape, and Albus Dumbledore himself were all in his room as well. They were all talking in a corner in hushed voices.

            Dumbledore's eyes were no longer twinkling, but were filled with a sense of sorrow so unbearable, that it looked as though the aged wizard would collapse from the weight. It hurt Harry to look at the man that he had always looked to as his mentor.

            Mad-Eye Moody's mood was unreadable in his scarred face, but he seemed to be worried. He was talking to Remus, whose eyes were almost as vacant as Harry's, and his face was red as though he had been crying.

            What Harry saw on Snape's face was nothing more than alarming. The professor had a look of shock, terror, sadness, anger, and pure loathing all in his eyes. The loathing and anger were not new to Harry, but the other emotions were.

            Dumbledore must have noticed that Harry was awake because he looked at him with worry. Harry gently sat up. All his joints and muscles ached.

            Noticing his movement, Remus went and sat beside him, and put an arm around him as though protecting him. The rest had chairs conjured up for them by Dumbledore, and they sat warily around his bed.

            "Well, Harry, I must say that you have had us all deathly worried about you," said Dumbledore solemnly.

            "I'm sorry, sir."

            "I almost knocked over my jar of lemon drops when Remus came to me with news about you."

            "I'm sorry, sir."

            "Harry, I know that Sirius' death has been immensely hard on you, but slowly letting yourself slip away is not the answer. There is so much you have you live for."

            "Yea, right," spat Harry bitterly. "I have _nothing _to live for, except being your precious key. Oh, wait. None of them probably know about _that_, do they sir?"

            "What are you talking about, Potter?" said Snape.

            "Well, _sir_," he spat even more bitterly at Snape, "Voldemort and I are in a little prophecy together. It's quite long-winded, but the gist of it is that either Voldemort dies, or I die. Convenient, eh? And seeing as how Professor Dumbledore cannot even defeat him, I am pretty much a lost cause. But you probably don't care if I die. You'll finally be rid of the one person that reminds you of my father the most. That's what you _really _want isn't it? You want to continue living your life with the memory of a childhood prank. You want revenge, don't you?"

            "HARRY!" shouted everyone but Snape.

            "NO! I'M NOT DONE! Isn't it true, _sir_? Isn't it? Well, I'm not going to let you or Voldemort kill me. No! I am going to do it myself, because then I can go and be with people that I hardly even know. And I hardly know them because of Voldemort, and that stupid bloody prophecy. Don't you worry, Professor Snape. I'll be gone soon. Then you and Voldemort will be happy."

            Everyone had gasped when Harry said that he would kill himself, and now everyone sat in a stunned silence. Harry sat seething with an anger that he had been pushing down since he found out the truth about his parents. Remus' grip had tightened around Harry's shoulder, Mad-Eye Moody sat stunned, Dumbledore looked even sadder than he had before, but there was also a hint of anger in those once twinkling eyes. Snape sat looking at the student he had hated for years not with loathing, but with a resigned tiredness and sadness. He looked at his pupil for the first time with what appeared to be concern.

            Finally, Remus spoke to Dumbledore, "Is it true? Is it really true that Harry must either kill Voldemort or die trying?"

            "I'm afraid so, Remus. I'm afraid it is true."

            "Albus, this young man needs some serious help," said Moody. "And I'm not talking about with magic. Look at him. All those slashes on his arms like he were a bloody Halloween jack-o-lantern. He's skinny as a skeleton, though I was assured that his aunt and uncle had nothing to do with this."

            "I know the kind of help that Harry needs, Alastor. But I doubt he will accept it."

            "Well," snapped Remus, "I'm going to help him whether or not he likes it. I am _not _about to lose the last person who means more than the world to me."

            "I don't want anyone's help," snapped Harry so venomously that it made even Snape jump.

            "I'm afraid, Harry," said Remus sternly, "that you are going to get my help whether you want it or not."

            "Potter," said Snape, "I don't want you dead. I know you think that, but I don't."

            "Whatever. You practically tossed me out of your office when you caught me in your penseive. You wouldn't even let me give you an explanation or an apology. You know, I am _not_ my father. Many things about us may be similar, but I am not him. No one could ever be him. I am so sick of you insulting me, and making my life an even bigger Hell than has been without you. I don't need you to help make my life miserable. SO JUST DROP YOUR BLOODY ACT!"

            "Harry, normally I would firmly suggest that you not speak that way to a professor, but I think that this will help you. It is about time that you and Professor Snape sorted out your differences," said Dumbledore kindly.

            "Albus," said Remus, I would really like a few moments alone with Harry before the 'peace talkings' between Harry and Severus commence. Please."

            "Certainly, Remus. I must go downstairs and await the arrival of the Dursleys." And with that, everyone left the room, leaving Harry and Remus alone.

            "Harry," he began, "I know you miss Sirius. I miss him too. I miss him more than anything. He was my best friend, and now he is gone. I refuse to lose you too. You are all that I have left. Whether you want my help or not, you will be receiving it. I can be quite stubborn. So you will just have to live with it."

            Harry started to say something, but couldn't. He suddenly burst into tears. He sobbed into Remus' shoulder, and Remus put an arm around him. Harry's whole body heaved with the weight of his tears. The tears wouldn't stop coming, but Harry didn't care. He just sat and cried into the werewolf's shoulder, grieving over everything he had lost and was likely to lose.

            He finally stopped crying. When he did, he felt, actually, even worse. He felt like the baby that everyone was treating him like. He hated himself, if it is possible, even worse. He was so angry with himself for falling apart, for showing people his weaknesses. And he hated himself for having people care about him. It was all too much.

            He wanted the numbness to come back. He didn't want to feel. He didn't want to miss Sirius like he did now. He didn't want to care about anyone because he knew in his heart that they too would get hurt, and possibly die. Everyone he had ever cared about died.

            _Maybe_, he thought, _that is why the Dursleys have lived so_ _long_. It all hurt him so much. He didn't want to see the people he cared for die. He refused to let that happen.

            He pushed himself away from Remus and stood up. He almost fell over because he was so weak, so he sat on the edge of the bed. He knew what he had to do, but it was hard for him to do it. Remus wanted to help him, as did Dumbledore and a lot of the other members of the Order. His friends wanted to help him. He was cared about, and it was scary. No one could care about him, and he couldn't care about them. That was the way it had to be.

            "Remus," Harry said, "could you call the others back in? I need to tell you all something."

            Remus looked at him oddly, but said, "Sure. I'll be right back."

            Harry watched the werewolf walk out the door. He soon came back with everyone. Professor Snape, Harry noticed, was reluctant to come in. When everyone was seated, Harry looked at them all in turn.

            The only person he knew he could say goodbye to was Professor Snape. They hated each other, and it that would make it easy to say goodbye to him. But, then again, maybe he would miss the professor. He couldn't explain why, but he thought he might.

            "Everyone," Harry began, "I know that you all care about me, and that you want to help me. I appreciate this, more than you will ever know. But…but I can't let you all help me. I have to do this on my own. Everyone that I have ever cared about has only gotten hurt, and killed. I'm not about to put the rest of your lives in danger. Don't start, Remus." Remus had begun to say something. "This is my decision. I have to do this alone. Even the prophecy says that. I don't want any of you to get hurt or die just because of me. So, I just want to be left alone. I'm sorry if this hurts, but I am going to be left alone, and you can't stop me." Harry said this last bit with defiance. He was done. He looked around the room again. He looked at Remus and saw that the man had tears in his eyes, as did Dumbledore.

            "Harry," said Dumbledore, "we are choosing to help you. You can't tell us what we can and cannot do. You may be the only one who can defeat Voldemort, but you do not have to journey down that road alone. The world is nothing without friends. We all want to help you, and that is what we are going to do."

            "With all due respect, sir, I can't have anyone helping me. I don't want any of you to die because of me."

            "We are all willing to die for you, Harry," said Remus.

            "Well, I don't want you to. If any of you, even you Professor Snape, died for me, I would die all over again. You see, I'm not afraid to die because I feel as though I am already dead. But if any of you died, I would die all over again, then I most definitely would kill myself, and Voldemort would rule."

            "Harry, we are going to help you. That is final. Now, I believe that you and Professor Snape have some things to discuss, so the rest of us will wait downstairs."

            Harry was about to say something, but he silenced himself. _Albus Dumbledore can be quite stubborn sometimes_, he thought to himself. As he got up to leave, Remus squeezed Harry's shoulder, and then left with the others, leaving Harry alone with Professor Severus Snape.


	3. The Snape Convention

**_The Longing_**

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**_Disclaimer:_**Again, I own nothing you recognize as JKR's.

**_Comments: _**Hey everyone. Well, here it is, Chapter 3! Sorry it took me son long, but I can only write on the weekends, so I will do my best to get you at least 2 chapters this weekend.

**Chapter 3: The Snape Convention**

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            For a minute, Harry and Severus Snape merely glared at each other. The atmosphere around them was deathly still. Anyone anywhere around the room wouldn't dare enter because the tension was stifling.

            Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Snape conjured up his own chair and sat down, still glowering. Harry sat down on his bed, and he, too, was still glowering.

            "Well, Potter, this is a fine mess you've gotten everyone into," said Snape breaking the silence.

            "Excuse me?"

            "Everyone, busting their tails, trying to keep little Harry Potter from either getting killed or doing it himself. It's a fine little mess, isn't it? And it's all your fault."

            "YEAH! I KNOW IT BLOODY IS, ALL RIGHT! I KNOW THAT IT'S ALL MY FAULT. I ADMIT IT. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW? BUT YOU KNOW WHAT? I DIDN'T ASK FOR ANY OF THIS!"

            "Didn't ask for what, Potter? Everyone to come and collect you because they care about you? Didn't want anyone to know that you're scared? You think you can do it all on your own? You think you can defeat the Dark Lord all by yourself?"

            "I didn't ask for _Voldemort _to kill my parents. I didn't ask to be made famous. And no, I didn't ask for people to come and get me. I didn't want them to, and I certainly don't want you here. _I'M NOT MY FATHER! NO MATTER HOW MUCH WE LOOK ALIKE, I AM NOT JAMES POTTER! _I wish I could have known my dad, I really do, and my mum. I wish I didn't have to live here, and I wish that all this wasn't happening, but you know what? You are making it worse. As bad as the Dursleys are, and as bad as they treated me, at least I don't have to look up to them. At least they aren't one of my bloody professors, and at least I can bloody well punch the living daylights out of any of them, but _you,_" Harry spat out that word as though it made him sick, "but you _Professor Snape_, are someone that I can't deal with at all. And yes, I think I can take on Voldemort alone, and would rather have it that way, because if I die, I can die not hearing you laughing and scolding me about what I am doing wrong."

            Harry sat back in silence. His teacher, too, was stunned for a minute. Harry had spilled out almost everything he had ever meant to say to the man.

            "So, Potter, you think you need no one? You say that you aren't your father, but he, too, refused help. He had to do everything himself. Maybe you aren't exactly like you father, but there is too much of him in you to not take into account."

            "You know that night, when you caught me in your penseive?" Harry asked the question after a few moments of silence.

            "What about it?" growled Snape.

            "I was actually really mad at my father. I didn't want to believe that he had done something that terrible. I felt bad about it. You know, Malfoy treats me like my father treated you, but at least you didn't have a professor treat you like a piece of vermin that should immediately be wiped from the face of the planet. At least you didn't have people gawking at your forehead when they first met you. At least you never had to deal with trying not to be famous, and then you do something and it makes you more famous. No. All you had to deal with were some school age bullies who set out to make your life miserable. So, let me apologize for anything the people I care about-save Wormtail- did to you. And then, let me apologize for the fact that I have to live in the shadow of Voldemort's many mistakes. But, finally, let me apologize for living, because I know that you wish I weren't."

            "That was some speech, Harry," came a voice from the door. It was Dumbledore. "But I think this little meeting needs to end before a battle erupts. Severus, would you please wait outside, and tell Remus to come in. Thank you."

            Snape left the room and soon Remus came in. He resumed his place beside Harry on Harry's bed.

            "Harry," began Dumbledore, "I believe that you and Professor Snape have made a break-through, whether you think so or not. That is important. Now, I know that you feel as though you need to be alone to get what is done finished and over with, but all ties that you can make are very crucial, and we are not going to let you do this to yourself, or to us."

            "Excuse me sir, but aren't you the one who told me that this is my task?"

            "Yes, Harry. It is your job to kill Voldemort, and rid the world of his filth, but the journey there you do not have to travel alone."

            Harry sighed. Remus said, "Look, kid. I know how you feel. You are afraid to lose everyone you care about, so you don't want to care about anyone. But we all care about you. Even Severus, somewhere in that heart of his, cares about you, even if it is only at a miniscule level. We are all here for you, and we want you to succeed. The outcome of what will happen rests on your shoulders, but it will affect us all. So, we are going to help you get to the level you must be at to succeed. And that is final."

            "Okay, fine."

            "Well, then. I will go to Mrs. Figg's house. I will meet you all there," said Dumbledore standing up. With that, he swept from the room.

            "Harry," said Remus, looking at him, "what exactly did you say to Snape?"

            "I don't want to talk about it. Listen, I know I am supposed to pack now, but I need to step outside for some air."

            "Sure. I'll go with you."

            Harry opened his mouth to say something, but he knew that it was pointless. But then he thought of an idea.

            "How about you stay here? I really don't want to talk about anything right now. No offense. You could have Snape watch me. We are both keen on not talking to each other."

            "Harry, there's something you are hiding from me, isn't there?"

            "In a way, yes," Harry said truthfully.

            "Well, as long as you don't plan on killing yourself, or Snape, and you promise to tell me soon, then I'll let you go this time."

            "Thanks, Remus. I'll be right back."

            Harry quickly, and as secretly as possible, grabbed his cigarettes and lighter and ran downstairs and out the door where he sat at the end of the driveway. He grabbed a fag and lit it. He inhaled deeply, and exhaled slowly. He heard the door open and close.

            He knew who it was, so he just inhaled again. A shadow came over him. Snape was standing right over him. He didn't care. He just took another long drag. Soon, he was done with the first one, but he wasn't ready to go back in, so he took out another one and lit it. He heard chuckling behind him.

            "So, Potter, since when did you start smoking?" asked Snape obviously amused.

            Harry let out the smoke he was holding and replied, "Why does it matter to you? You know, I asked for you to watch me because I thought that you would be silent."

            "Stop being arrogant, Potter, and pass me one."

            Harry looked up at his professor in shock. He reluctantly passed him his pack and his lighter.

            "I didn't know you smoked, sir," said Harry trying to be respectful for once.

            Snape must have caught his tone because he said fairly nicely, "I never liked to make it public, but since you had some, I thought I would break that."

            Snape sat down on the curb, a little ways from Harry. They sat in silence. Harry finished his second fag and got up from the curb. Snape stood up too, flicked his fag in the street, and passed the pack and lighter back to Harry. They walked in together, not saying anything.

            Harry walked back to his room, and saw Remus smiling at him.

            "So, that's the secret? You smoke now?"

            "Yeah."

            "I never knew Severus smoked," Remus added thoughtfully.

            "He said he didn't like to make it public," replied Harry simply.

            "Understandable. Let's get you packed."

**_Closing Comments: _**Ha! I bet you weren't exactly expecting Snape to be a smoker. Who knows, you may find more about him than you thought. Again, thanks to all my reviewers. I will be putting up a few more chapters, and then I won't be able to post for a while. Stay with me, my faithful readers. I promise to get you more chapters.


	4. The Unknown Talent Mixed with Internal P...

**_The Longing_**

**__**

**_Disclaimer: _**_Again…nothing…I own nothing that is rightfully JKR's._

**_Opening Comments:  _**_Hello all my faithful readers. Sorry this one took so long. I went skiing last weekend and wasn't able to write. Well, here it is; the next chapter. _

**Chapter 4: The Unknown Talent Mixed with Internal Pain**

****

                        When they reached Grimmauld Place, Harry noticed many changes. Mrs. Black's picture had finally been removed, but not without leaving a huge burn mark where her portrait had once been. All the other portraits in the hall were also gone, and with less marks. The elf heads on the stairwell were almost gone. Harry noticed that Kreacher's head was among them now. He couldn't say that he was sad to see the little git go.

                        All too suddenly, though, Harry remembered whose house this had been, and he felt himself on the verge of crying. Remus must have seen what was going on because he gently towed Harry upstairs and into a bedroom.

                        "Harry, it's okay to cry. Um…this is your room, now. S-Sirius wanted you to have it. I'm here if you want to talk."

                        Without another word, Remus left, and Harry was by himself. He looked sadly around the room that he knew had once been his godfather's. As he looked around the room, Harry saw a guitar in the corner. It was by an amplifier, but one that worked by magic.

                        Harry sighed. He knew he couldn't use magic. Of course, he didn't even know how to play the guitar, but he thought he would try. He picked it up and put the strap over his shoulder. It felt so right for him. It was like a long lost friend being found or something. He hadn't even realized he was playing until he heard the music getting louder, and himself singing:

When this began

I had nothing to say

And I'd get lost in the nothingness inside of me

I was confused

And I let it all out to find

That I'm not the only person with these things in mind

Inside of me

But all the vacancy the words revealed

Is the only real thing that I've got left to feel

Nothing to lose

Just stuck

Hollow and alone

And the fault is my own

And the fault is my own

I want to heal

I want to feel

What I thought was never real

I want to let go of the pain I've felt so long

[Erase all the pain 'til it's gone]

I want to heal

I want to feel

Like I'm close to something real

I was to find something I've wanted all along

Somewhere I belong

And I've got nothing to say

I can't believe I didn't fall right down on my face

I was confused

Looking everywhere

Only to find

That it's not the way I had imagined it all in my mind

So what I am?

What do I have but negativity?

Cause I can't justify the way everyone is looking at me

Nothing to lose

Nothing to gain

Hollow and alone

And the fault is my own

And the fault is my own

I want to heal

I want to feel

What I thought was never real

I want to let go of the pain I've felt so long

[Erase all the pain 'til it's gone]

I want to heal

I want to feel

Like I'm close to something real

I want to find something

I've wanted all along

Somewhere I belong

I will never know

Myself until I do this on my own

And I will never feel

Anything else until my wounds are healed

I will never be

Anything 'til I break away from me

And I will break away

I'll find my self today

I want to heal

I want to feel

Like I'm somewhere I belong

(Lyrics By: Linkin Park

                        And when he was finished, he set that beautiful guitar back on its stand and collapsed where he was at.

**_Closing Comments: _**_Well, there you have it, another chapter. Sorry if this one is a little shorter, but I really wanted to add that song somehow. Please review, and try not to be too mean…LOL. Well, thanks for reading, and I will have another chapter up for you shortly._


	5. A Little Bit of Sunshine in the Everlast...

**_The Longing_**

**__**

**_Disclaimer: _**_Just to keep up appearances, again, I own nothing that is rightfully JKR's. _

**_Opening Comments: _**_Wow! Thanks so much to all my reviewers. As requested, here is the next chapter. Well, I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and sorry it took so long._

**Chapter 5: A Little Bit of Sunshine in the Everlasting Darkness**

****

          When Harry awoke, he was in a bed, and he heard whispers all around him. Everything was blurry. Someone had removed his glasses. He grabbed them off the nightstand and quietly sat up. He saw that the voices belonged to none other than Remus Lupin, Albus Dumbledore, and Mrs. Molly Weasley.

            "I'm sure everything will be alright, Remus. He probably is dealing with emotional, mental, and physical exhaustion. Besides that, he hasn't eaten hardly anything in quite some time," said Dumbledore.

            "I know that you are right, Albus, but it still worries me," replied Remus in a tired voice.

            "Albus, what are we going to do? He has to know sometime," came Mrs. Weasley.

            "He will know all in good time, my dear Molly. But we cannot push anything right now."

            Mrs. Weasley sighed, "Yes, I know. He is such a fragile little dear."

            At the mention of this, Harry almost yelled. He was not fragile. He was so sick and tired of everyone treating him like a baby. He was beyond being sick of being The-Boy-Who-Lived, or to him, The-Boy-Who-Should-Have-Just-Bloody-Died. It was all too much. He quickly tried to calm himself so he could hear the rest of the conversation.

            "Albus, you do realize that we have got to tell him sometime soon. He needs to know. And I personally believe that the sooner we tell him, the sooner the real healing process can begin."

            "Remus, I do know this. And you are right. But we must give it a few more days."

            "Fine. But only a few more days."

            "Well, now that is settled, Molly, would you mind making me one of your wonderful cups of tea?"

            "Certainly Albus."

            With that, Dumbledore and Mrs. Weasley walked out of the room. Remus quietly closed the door behind them. He turned and saw that Harry was awake.

            "What was that all about, Remus?"

            "It's nothing, Harry."

            "No, it is something. I can tell. Besides, it is quite obvious that it is something because you were all talking about it where I was able to hear you."

            Remus laughed. "I know." His expression sobered, "But, I don't think that now is the time to discuss this."

            Harry couldn't help but feel a little angry. "When will be the right time? When I'm not so bloody fragile? I'm not a little kid. I deserve the truth. It's the least anyone can do."

            "First of all, I know that you are not a little kid. And I know that you are not going to break like a porcelain doll. But, Harry, you have got to understand that a lot of people can't help but think that about you because of what you have been through, and how you are dealing with it. They just don't understand. I do, though, Harry. I really do understand. And if you want the truth, I will give it to you, but not until you eat something, and start to feel better."

            "Will you tell me after I eat a little dinner?"

            "Yes. I will. But, you have to promise me that you won't do anything else stupid. Deal?"

            "Deal. Wait. Stupid? What did I do that was stupid?"

            "Do you want me to list all the stupid things you have done this summer? Let's see. You haven't been eating, you cut yourself, you drifted away, and no one thought you would come back. Shall I go on?"

            Harry actually laughed. "Okay. Okay. You've made your point. Oh, Remus?"

            "Yeah?"

            "Thanks."

            "It's no big deal."

            "Um…I promise to eat, but don't expect me to eat a whole lot at first."

            "We'll slowly build you up, kid." He got up to leave. He turned at the door. "By the way, you play very well." With that, he walked out of the room.

            A little while later, Harry showered in the adjoining bathroom, and went down to the kitchen. Everyone looked up when he walked in. He sat down in between Ron and Remus. He smiled a reassuring smile (that he didn't really feel) at everyone.

            When he had eaten almost a full plate of lasagna, Harry asked to be excused.

            "Harry, dear, you need to eat," was Mrs. Weasley's reply.

            Harry desperately looked to Remus for help.

            "Molly, Harry's stomach shrunk when he didn't eat. He has to gradually go up, or he'll get sick."

            Mrs. Weasley looked like she was going to say something, but seemed to think better of it, and allowed Harry to leave the table.

            Harry went back up to his room. Considering it was his room now, Harry decided to smoke. _Besides_, he thought, _it isn't like anyone will let me go outside_. So, Harry pulled out his pack and his lighter, found a small dish to use as an ash tray, and lit a fag.

            He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. He tried not to think about anything except inhaling and exhaling. He had just started a second one when he heard a knock on the door.

            "Come in," he said while blowing out some smoke.

            Remus and Snape walked in. Snape was carrying a cup of something, and he seemed to be his usual unpleasant self. He smirked when he saw the look on Remus' face at the sight of Harry smoking.

            "Hello," said Harry after taking another long drag. He saw the look on Remus' face too and added, "I can put this out if you would like, Remus."

            "No. It's okay. I'm just trying to get used to seeing you do that."

            This only made Snape smirk more. Actually, Harry noticed, it wasn't really a smirk. It was almost an amused smile. This was a shocking and strange new development. Of course, it being Snape and all, that hint of a smile didn't last long.

            "Potter," he said coming closer to Harry, "everyone wants you to drink this, so spare me the grief and just do it." He handed Harry the potion.

            Harry looked from Snape to Remus and then back to Snape and then said, "What exactly is it?"

            Snape sighed as though Harry was the dumbest thing to ever walk the face of the planet. This was more like the Snape Harry had always known. "It's a Strengthening Potion, Potter."

            "Oh," said Harry. Without another word, to the surprise of everyone, including himself, Harry downed the potion in one swift gulp, grimaced, and handed the cup back to Snape.

            "Thank you, Professor," said Harry after getting over the sickening taste of the potion.

            This surprised everyone. Was Harry actually being cordial to Snape? What was going on? Remus just looked at Harry with a new respect. He was certainly learning things that some adults never even learn.

            Snape turned and left without another word, closing the door behind him. It took a few more minutes for Remus to say anything.

            "Harry, I guess it is time for us to talk," he began.

            "Okay. You know, Remus, you can sit down." Remus sat beside Harry on the large bed. "And stop looking at me like I have finally lost my mind," he added.

            Remus laughed. "I just can't believe your behavior towards Snape. And Moody still refuses just about everything offered to him, even by people in the Order. It is just very surprising."

            "Yeah, well, I've been thinking that I need to control my emotions better, or I'll end up like Voldemort, and I don't want that."

            "I'm very proud of you," said Remus quietly, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder.

            This was new to Harry. No one had ever really been proud of him before. Not that he could remember, anyway. It was a new feeling, but Harry was disconcerted still. He was still scared for the people who chose to get too close to him. They could very easily be in danger, and then they might end up like Sirius.

            At the thought of his godfather, Harry thought he was going to cry. All the things he had been feeling all summer came rushing back to him in an instant, and the weight was immeasurable and a huge burden upon Harry's shoulders.

            "Harry, are you alright?" asked Remus with concern.

            "Remus, do-do you blame me for S-Sirius' death?"

            "Oh, Harry," said Remus pulling Harry into a hug, "I could never blame you for anything like that." Harry looked at him incredulously and then dropped his head. "Look at me." Harry looked up. "It _was not_ your fault. Get that through your head. Okay? It was an accident."

            "No!" burst Harry suddenly. "No, it was my fault. If I had practiced my Occlumency and stayed out of Snape's penceive, then none of this would ever had happened! If I hadn't been so stuck in my own ways, then Sirius would still be here, and my life wouldn't be so empty."

            "Harry, everyone makes mistakes. Occlumency is not easy to learn. Besides, your pride when it comes to Snape is very understandable. You felt humiliated, and anyone else in their right minds who had been treated the way you have by him would have felt the same. Stop blaming yourself. No one else blames you, so stop blaming yourself. And you aren't alone. I know you feel that way, but you will never be alone."

            "How can you say that? I am alone. I've been alone all my life. Nothing will ever change. I'm just meant to be alone, I guess."

            "Harry," said Remus looking at the boy beside him, "maybe we should go over the things we were going to discuss tomorrow."

            "Yeah, fine. Whatever."

            No one said anything for a few minutes. Harry looked at something that no one else could see, and Remus looked at the troubled youth sitting next to him. Harry felt as though the weight of the world was on him. His shoulders were drooped in the mannerism that showed his feelings. Remus thought he would cry at the sight of Harry.

            _He's just a kid_, he thought. _He doesn't deserve any of the pain he is going through. He needs to be like all the other kids his age, out playing and getting into fights. Not having to deal with any of the things he is going through. It really isn't fair._

Remus looked at Harry and couldn't control his distance any longer. He pulled the youth to him and held him as a father would hold his son after he had been rejected or lost a fight.

            Surprisingly, Harry didn't pull away. As a matter of fact, Harry clung to the werewolf as though he were his lifeline. He didn't cry, he just clung to his ex-professor as though he were a little child. And he didn't really care. He had never been held like this, like a parent would. It was a new revelation, and Harry didn't want to let it go.

            When they let go of each other, the other felt a little better. Remus walked out soon after that, with the promise that he would be back later. Ron walked in a few minutes later, and the two boys caught up on some of the things they had been doing over break so far. (Harry left quite a few things out, but his friend either didn't notice, or had the sense not to say anything.) Then they played a few games of Wizard Chess and Exploding Snap.

            When Harry told his fiery-headed friend that he was exhausted, they said their goodnights, and Ron left. Remus came in a few minutes later as Harry was picking up the guitar again.

            "Don't mind me," Remus said. "Why don't you play me something?"

            "I don't really know how I played the last time. It just kind of happened."

            "The music is inside of you, along with quite a few other undiscovered gifts. Just let them flow."

            Harry nodded and pulled the guitar strap over his head. He thought for a few minutes about how he felt, and then he started to play.

The world is a vampire, sent to drain

Secret destroyers, hold you up to the flames

And what do I get, for my pain

Betrayed desires, and a piece of game

Even though I know-I suppose I'll show

All my cool and cold-like old job

Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage

Then someone will say what is lost can never be saved

Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage

Now I'm naked, nothing but an animal

But can you fake it, for just one more show

And what do you want, I want to change

And what have you got

When you feel the same

Even though I know-I suppose I'll show

All my cool and cold-like old job

Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage

Then someone will say what is lost can never be saved

Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage

Tell me I'm the only one

Tell me there's no other one

Jesus was the only son

Tell me I'm the chosen one

Jesus was the only son for you

Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage

And I still believe that I cannot be saved

            When Harry finished, he again set that beautiful guitar on its stand. He looked at Remus, who was looking at him with an unreadable expression. Then, suddenly, he began to clap. It embarrassed Harry, and he felt his face turning the color of Ron's hair.

            "That was excellent, Harry," said Remus.

            "Thanks Remus."

            "You know, Harry. That was one of Sirius' favorite songs. He used to play it too. He would be very proud of you."

            "Thanks."

            "Well, Harry. I'm wolf-tired. You know, the full moon is coming up and everything. I'll see you in the morning, kid."

            "Okay. Goodnight, Remus."

            "Goodnight Harry."

            When Remus left, Harry gently stroked the beautiful guitar before getting into bed himself. It had been a long day. It was definitely an improved day, but it was long and tiring nonetheless. Harry soon found himself drifting to sleep.

            In his dreams, he saw himself on a field of some kind. He saw in front of him a giant grim-like dog, a stag, and a werewolf. He looked at them and smiled. They were all so playful and kid-like. Harry looked at himself and saw that he was not a boy, but a panther. His sleek black fur shimmered in the moonlight.

            He ran to catch up with the others, and they greeted him like they were best friends. Then, suddenly, Harry turned and saw a small and quivering rat amongst the adjoining trees of a forest. He hissed at the rat, and it ran. But he chased after it, and soon caught it.

            He brought the pathetic little beast back to the others, where they, as one, finally got their revenge on the one that had forced them all to be separated forever. Then they ran off together to find some mischief in the night.

            And in his bed, Harry smiled, not wanting the dream to end. He was oblivious to everything else, and that was the way he liked it. Everyone was together at last.

**_Closing Comments: _**_Well, there it is, Chapter Five. I hope you all enjoyed it. I enjoyed writing it. I will get you the next chapter as soon as I can. Thank you to all the people who reviewed my story so far. Again, I promise that the next chapter will be up ASAP. Thanks to everyone. _

_Lyrics: "Bullet With Butterfly Wings" Smashing Pumpkins_


	6. Unexpected Strenghts, Rage, and the Plan...

The Longing 

**__**

**_Disclaimer: _**_You know the deal…JK Rowling is the literary genius who owns Harry Potter. I only own the plot._

**_Author's Notes: _**_Here it is, at long last. I am so sorry that it took so long to get this to you. Things have been busy, and then I had writer's block. Here it is. _

Chapter Six: Unexpected Strengths, Rage, and the Planning of Sweet Revenge 

****

          The next morning, Harry felt someone gently shaking his shoulder. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes. He sat up and put his glasses on. He saw Remus standing next to him with a faint smile on his tired face.

                        "Morning sleep head," said Remus amusedly.

                        "Morning, Moony," Harry replied.

                        "Sleep well?"   
                        "Actually, yeah. For the first time in a long time."

                        "Good. Well, get dressed. Then come down to the kitchen and eat breakfast. After that, some members of the Order are coming over for a meeting, and you need to be there."

                        "I actually get to be at a meeting?" Harry asked, incredulous.

                        "Yes. Dumbledore feels that we should include you in some of the things we discuss, not all of them mind you, but some of them."

                        "Great. I'm glad people are finally deciding to bring me out of the dark on a few things. Well, I'll go take a shower. See you downstairs."

                        "Okay. Hurry up. Molly and Ron are going into Diagon Alley today and I thought you might like to get some new clothes."

                        "I could definitely use some clothes," said Harry with some bitterness.

                        "For today, Molly shrunk a pair of your pants and a shirt."

                        "Good. Well, I'll see you in a little bit."

            Remus walked out of the room, and Harry got out of bed. He was feeling a lot better. He stretched and reached for his pack of cigarettes. He lit one and sat on the bed. He thought of what would happen if Mrs. Weasley decided to walk into the room. He laughed to himself.

            Blowing out some smoke, he heard a knock on his door.

                        "Come in," said Harry before taking another drag on the cigarette.

            Remus walked into the room. "Harry, Severus would like to speak with you. Is that all right?"

                        "Fine," Harry replied, blowing out some smoke.

            A few moments later, Snape walked awkwardly into the room. Harry looked at his professor before dousing his cigarette. He was about to light another, but he threw the pack to Snape instead.

                        "Thanks, Potter," Snape said, closing the door before lighting a fag.

                        "You can keep the rest of the pack if you want, Professor. I have a whole carton almost."

                        "Thanks. Listen, Potter, we need to have a talk."

                        "No offense, sir, but I really don't feel like getting into an argument right now, so if it could wait for later, that would be nice."

                        "I'm not here to start a bloody argument. I want you to know, that I accept your apology about being in my thoughts. As wrong as it was, I can see that you were truthful in your apology. I am here to offer you Occlumency lessons again."

                        "Thank you, sir. I accept your offer, and I promise to stay out of your thoughts from now on. I need the lessons, and I really appreciate you taking the time to give them to me."

            Snape seemed taken aback, so he merely took another long drag on his cigarette and blew it out slowly. Harry was pulling a breath on his second one, waiting patiently for Snape's reply.

                        "We'll discuss a starting time at the meeting later on," Snape said, dousing his cigarette and heading for the door.

            Without another word, the door was closed once more, and Harry was left to himself. He finished his fag and went into the bathroom.

            For the first time in a while, Harry didn't cut himself before he got into the shower. He merely undressed, got in the shower, and let the hot water pour down on him. With each pass of soap, he felt as though tons of filth and weight were washing off him.

            Harry took his time getting ready. His reflection was still scary, but his eyes were no longer sunken in, and there was more life in those striking emerald orbs. He was still very skinny, and the cuts all over his arms were an annoying reminder of his stupidity.

Back in the bedroom, Harry saw, for the first time, a picture hanging on the wall. It was a picture of Harry's parents, Sirius, Remus, and baby Harry. Lily was holding Harry, James beside her, with Sirius beside James, and Remus on the other side of Lily.  

            Looking at that picture, Harry felt something deep within him burst. It was as though a long over due volcano had erupted inside his heart. A rage such that he had never felt before flowed through him. It wasn't, however, a reckless rage like he had displayed in Dumbledore's office, and in his own room. This was a very precise and calculated rage. It was the kind of rage that made men dangerous. It brought on a kind of precision and dangerousness that reminded Harry of those men that he had read about who were in the army and had seen and caused so many deaths that they were experts.

            It flowed through Harry's entire being. He shook all over. His eyes, which had still been slightly dull when he had looked at them in the mirror only moments ago, turned into a brilliant emerald green. They shone with an animal fierceness. Harry knew what he was going to do. Everyone had offered to help him in his quest for Voldemort, and he was going to let them do it. But there were many things that he was going to do himself.

            Looking away from the picture, Harry tried to calm himself down. He didn't want Remus or anyone else to know that something was wrong. After a few moments of deep breathing, he achieved a calm enough state that his rage was not visible on the outside.

            He calmly walked out of his room and down the stairs into the kitchen. Everyone, which was Remus, Molly Weasley, and Ron, looked up when he walked in. He smiled as reassuringly a smile as he could muster. They smiled back.

            Harry's breakfast consisted of two pancakes, sic pieces of bacon, a slice of buttered toast, a glass of pumpkin juice, and a glass of milk. Remus looked shocked that Harry was eating so much. Mrs. Weasley looked pleased.

            After breakfast, Mrs. Weasley and Ron left for Diagon Alley with the rest of Harry's money from last term. They were going to buy him some new clothes while they went to pick up Hermione.

            The meeting wasn't due to start for another couple of hours. Much to Remus' enjoyment, Harry brought down Sirius' guitar and played a few songs. He played: Just Like You (By: 3 Days Grace), A Place for My Head (By: Linkin Park), and Fight for Your Right to Party (By: The Beastie Boys). They laughed and told jokes. Remus shared a few of stories of when he was at Hogwarts.

            There were usually pauses when it came to mention of Sirius, but they worked past those. Harry, for the first time in a long time, was smiling and laughing genuinely.

            As happy as he felt, though, deep in him, that rage that he felt earlier had not dulled. If anything, it continued to grow. As Harry sat there with Remus, the happiness made his anger rise. Happiness and a normal life were what Harry desperately wanted, and Voldemort was making them nearly impossible to achieve.

            Remus must have sense a subtle change in Harry because he looked at him worriedly.

                        "Harry, are you alright?" he asked.

                        "Yeah. I'm fine. Why?"

                        "You just seem a little edgy right now, that's all."

                        "Oh. Well, I think all of us are a bit on edge lately."

                        "Very true. You know, it's almost time for the meeting, so why don't you put that guitar back in your room, and then come back down here."

                        "Alright."

            Harry walked upstairs. In his room once more, he saw that picture again. Immediately, that calculated rage tore through his entire body. His hand started to shake, and his eyes were alight with the feelings flowing through him. He looked away. He couldn't afford to let his emotions come through. He had to keep them in check.

            To calm his nerves, Harry pulled a cigarette from his pack. He inhaled slowly, and exhaled at the same speed. Slowly, his body began to calm. His muscles relaxed some, and his hands stopped shaking.

            Harry reminded himself to not look at the picture. There would be plenty of time for anger and expression of feelings later. Dousing the last of his fag, The-Boy-Who-Lived walked back downstairs. Members of the Order were already beginning to show up. Harry took his seat next to Remus.

            Remus threw a worried expression towards him, and Harry smiled reassuringly. Dumbledore began to speak to those present. (Arthur Weasley, Kingsley Shacklebot, Severus Snape, and Mad-Eye Moody)

                        "Good afternoon everyone. Thank you all for coming. As you will have noticed, young Harry is joining us today. I'm sure those of you who didn't know are glad to see that he is well and kicking. Or almost, anyway. Well, having said that, on to other business."

            Dumbledore went on to talk about what he felt should be done about Harry and his well-being. Harry felt as though his presence in the room made no difference to anyone except Remus. Dumbledore would say something about what he thought someone should do to help Harry, while The-Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Bloody-Die sat and listened to it all.

            All the while this was going on, there were many things he wanted to say, but he didn't. He had a much more important thought on his mind: revenge. He had been silently brooding about it ever since he first had seen that picture. Revenge was what was keeping him going now. Revenge was what kept Harry from shouting at Dumbledore that he didn't need or want anyone's help.

            The thirst for revenge was both sweet and bitter inside his mouth. He was hardly even listening to what anyone was saying until he heard someone mention Sirius' name. That got Harry's full attention.

                        "As you all are aware," Dumbledore was saying, "our Sirius Black died in the fight at the Department of Mysteries. Apparently, he had known that sooner or later, he was going to die, and he prepared for this. As painful as I am sure this is for many, if not all, of you, it is time to hear Sirius' will."

                        "His will?" Harry asked aloud.

**_Closing Comments: _**_I know, aren't I just terrible? Sorry everyone, but Sirius' will is meant for the next chapter. You'll just have to continue reading._


	7. The Will and the Plan Begins

**_The Longing_**

**__**

**_Disclaimer: _**_You know the drill. I only own the plot. Everything else is JK Rowling's._

**_Opening Comments: _**_Well, here it is, another chapter. Hope you enjoy! Don't forget to R&R!_

Chapter Seven: The Will and the Plan Begins 

                   "His will?" Harry asked aloud.

                        "Yes, Harry. Sirius left a will. I know this is going to be hard on you, but we've all just got to get this out of the way. It will help with the healing process."

                        "I understand, sir."

                        "Very well. Here it is."

            Dumbledore sat on the table a round red orb of some kind. He pulled out his wand and muttered something inaudible to Harry. Not that it mattered, though. Nothing happened. Remus looked slightly amused, though it did not hide the evident pain in his face.

                        "Albus, Sirius was no ordinary man. And he certainly wasn't very trusting, especially after the whole Pettigrew incident. Let me try."

                        "As you wish, Remus. I guess I should have known that he would make it more difficult to get in to."

                        "I solemnly swear that Peter Pettigrew is a filthy git and a traitor," said Remus to the orb, with probably more conviction than was needed. As though on cue, a golden smoke began to swirl from the orb and took shape. It was Sirius.

                        "I knew you would figure this out, Moony. You always were brilliant. Of course, if you are hearing this, it means that I am no longer with you. I probably, at least I hope, that I died fighting. I suppose it is time to go through the process of handing out my assets. First, to my best friend, Remus, I leave you all the books and such that belonged to the Marauders. I also want you to take on a great responsibility for me. I want you to take on my guardianship of Harry. I want you to be his godfather now. You both need each other. On to my good cousin, Tonks. I leave you all the things that are in the basement. I know you know what I am talking about. To my favorite family, the Weasleys. Arthur, Molly, I know you hate charity, but this isn't it. Think of it as child support. You have looked after Harry for so long, and I don't doubt that you will continue to do so. I want you and your family to have one of the Black vaults. Albus will provide you with the key. Moody, there are a lot of things in another one of the family vaults that I am sure you will find most interesting. I leave that vault to you. Albus, you are a great man. I leave you the collection of books in the main library of Headquarters. The next inheritor will come as a shock, I know. The next on my list is Severus Snape. I know we never got along. In fact, we hated each other. But to you, Severus, I leave another one of the family vaults. You'll see what is in it when you open it. Finally, I come to my godson, Harry. Harry, I am going to miss you. I know you must being dealing very hardly with my death, but please don't. I will always be watching over you. Harry, I leave everything else to you. This includes: the rest of the vaults in my ownership, the house and all that is in it, and my other motorbike. Harry, a blueprint of the house is in a drawer in my room. I'm sure you will find it interesting. I do have one request. Please, take care of Remus. You two need each other. That's everything, everyone. Take care of each other, and get rid of Voldemort. Goodbye." Sirius' form disappeared in the golden mist.

            Harry felt an extreme sadness. It was great what Sirius had left him, but what he really wanted, more than anything in the entire world, was to have his godfather back. Harry sighed and stood to his feet.

            Looking around the room, Harry saw all the people. Remus had tears in his eyes, as did Dumbledore and Arthur Weasley. Snape looked like he was on the verge of shock. Moody's scarred face was unreadable. Harry couldn't take it anymore. He ran out of the kitchen and up to his room. He threw himself on the bed and cried.

            The tears soon ran dry, though. Once again, Harry was filled with a terrible rage that coursed through his entire being. Hyped on the energy the rage gave him, he picked up Sirius' guitar and began to play.

_I could be mean, I could be angry_

_You know I could be just like you_

_I could be fake, I could be stupid_

_You know I could be just like you_

_You thought you were standing beside me_

_You were only in my way_

_You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you_

_You thought you were there to guide me_

_You were only in my way_

_You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you_

_You thought you were there to guide me_

_You were only in my way_

_You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you_

_I could be cold, I could be ruthless_

_You know I could be just like you_

_I could be weak, I could be senseless_

_You know I could be just like you_

_You thought you were standing beside me_

_You were only in my way_

_You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you_

_You thought you were there to guide me_

_You were only in my way_

_You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you_

_You thought you were there to guide me_

_You were only in my way_

_You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you_

_On my own cause I can't stand livin' with you_

_I'm alone, so I won't turn out like you want me to_

_You thought you were standing beside me_

_You were only in my way_

_You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you_

_You thought you were there to guide me_

_You were only in my way_

_You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you_

_You thought you were there to guide me_

_You were only in my way_

_You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you_

_I could be mean, I could be angry_

_You know I could be just like you_

(Lyrics By: 3 Days Grace)

            After playing, Harry felt better. It was release to him. Now, his mind was clear enough to set on to the task at hand. It was time to begin planning.

            Harry pulled out a sheet of parchment, his quill, and his ink and sat at the mahogany desk. He started writing a list of all the things he needed to do. It was time. It was time to put it all to an end. It was time for people to pay.

            The-Boy-Who-Lived sat there for over an hour writing things down. After he finished his list, he still felt like writing, so he began writing the objectives and such of his plan. Those who might find it would know that they would be wrong to mess with him. He was an unwavering teenager. No one was going to be allowed to get in his way.

**_Closing Comments: _**_That's the last chapter I have finished right now. I promise to work hard on the next one and get it up for you all. Please R&R!_


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